Rules of Survival (Entangled Embrace) (11 page)

…

There was no real sense of passing time, but it felt like a while. Forever, in fact. I recited the alphabet twice—once normally and then once backward—and sang the national anthem four times. None of it helped. The silence threatened to drive away the last of my sanity.

“I wish you’d wake up.” I said out loud. My throat hurt and my voice was getting raspy. I would have given just about anything for a cherry soda. “I sort of have a thing about silence…”

No answer.

“Why?” I responded to myself in a deep, Shaun-like voice.

“Well, you’re the enemy, right?” I answered myself. “All annoying and cocky and hot in that ‘I’m the man’ kinda way… Why should I tell you?”

“You can trust me,” I said in my Shaun voice. I even bobbed my head for increased effect—even though no one could see it. “And I
am
the man.”

I sighed and stretched out my legs, index finger running along the edge of the chain. “I have this weird memory from when I was a kid. Like, this watery thing that’s always in the background. I asked Mom about it once and she blew it off. That’s how I knew it was real. Not just some weird random nightmare…”

I stopped and held my breath, listening for signs that he was waking up. There was nothing, so I continued. “It’s more than a memory, too, ya know? It’s a feeling. A heavy, nearly paralyzing feeling. Any time things get too quiet, it’s there. Just creeping up to smother me.”

An involuntary shiver rocketed up my spine. I’d never said this to another living person—not even Mom. Sure, Shaun was out cold—and that’s probably the only reason I was able to do this—but it was weird. Like admitting weakness. And that wasn’t allowed. It was one of the rules. Always stay strong and show no fear.

“We were hiding somewhere,” I said, voice softening a little. “I don’t know where, but it was dark. And small. We were really squished in… Mom had her hand over my mouth—and not just resting there. No, it was clamped down tight. I almost couldn’t breathe…”

More listening. Still nothing.

“She whispered in my ear. Told me whatever I saw, to stay absolutely still and don’t make a sound. She sounded so scared—I’d never heard fear in her voice like that. It scared me, so I whimpered. Just once. So quietly…”

The memory took over and I was swept back to one of the most terrifying moments in my life. A moment that made so much more sense to me now that I knew our running hadn’t been only about her criminal past.

“She panicked, I think. Covered my mouth even more. Even tighter. I was so small and her hand was so big—it covered my nose, too. I couldn’t breathe so I tried to struggle, but she held me down. Everything got dark, but before I passed out, I saw it. The thing we were hiding from. Him… Or his shoes, anyway.” I laughed. “Lame, right? To be afraid of
shoes
?”

“I understand,” Shaun whispered.

Every muscle in my body locked up, and I could have sworn my heart stopped. He was awake? He’d heard the entire thing? I couldn’t respond. I couldn’t even breathe.

But I didn’t need to. Shaun spoke instead. “I don’t like the silence, either. It always brought—bad things.”

I wanted to ask him what he meant, but he didn’t give me an opening.

“You’re really brave, you know? All the things you’ve had to do just to
live
.”

My heart jumped a little. Sad but true, it was the biggest compliment anyone had ever given me. “If something as simple as silence turns my blood to ice and transforms me into a useless blob of goo, how is that brave?”

Warmth covered my hand. “How did you turn into goo? You were down here in the dark—in the silence—and you dealt with it.”

Then I remembered the early part of my conversation. My Shaun imitation. Oh. My. God. I wanted to die. I’d called him
hot
. Had he actually
heard
that part? “Yeah, by having a two-way conversation with myself…”

“So? You took a paralyzing fear and owned it instead of letting it own you. Doesn’t matter
how
you did it—that’s huge. There aren’t many people who could do that.”

“Really, it’s a lame way to deal…” I wanted to change the subject. Badly. For the first time since we’d gotten stuck here, I was thankful for the darkness. I’d bet all ten of my toes that my face was bright red.

Thankfully, he took the hint. “So…what happened? Where are we?”

“I’m not entirely sure. The ground caved in, I think. We fell.”

Material rustled, and the chain rattled and clinked. “Fell? Fell into what?”

“Some kind of hole.” I glanced up toward where the opening was—or should have been. Whatever it was had sealed behind us, closing out any light and essentially locking us in. “Maybe it’s a well or something?”

“Can you stand?” Shaun asked. I felt the cuff tug to the left, then up, and did my best not to whimper. I was going to look like an abuse victim by the time we got these things off. My wrist was swollen and sore and probably a pretty awesome shade of blue and purple by now. It was a surprise I could even still move my fingers.

“Yeah.” I climbed to my feet, using the wall as a guide. It was smooth—too smooth to be the inside of a well. Definitely not dirt. Wherever we were was man-made, and that meant there might be a light. Right arm extended, I started in front of me, then slowly began to work toward the right, hand running up and down the wall. “First things first. We need to see. Try to find a light. Then we can figure out how to get out of here.”

“Good plan,” Shaun said.

We worked our way around the room in silence. I felt like I should say something. I’d just spilled my guts to the enemy. That wasn’t a thing you could just brush under the rug, right? I took a deep breath. I needed to do damage control. “So—”

“Bingo!” Shaun shouted, jerking me to the left. A second later, a small faux flame flared to life. He’d found a camping lantern sitting on top of an old rickety table. It wasn’t much, but there was enough light to finally see where we were.

“I guess we didn’t hit the border of Gerald’s property after all. This must be his panic room,” I said, scanning the small space.

Several shelves full of canned food sat along the far wall, while large bags of what looked like clothing were lined in a row beneath them. To our right, a small stack of papers sat under a small metal box. I got closer in order to get a better look. Several passports, licenses, and four checkbooks—all with different names and from different banks. Picking up a passport, I flipped through it. Mark Landry of Ohio. They were quality fakes. I couldn’t help wondering where Gerald had gotten them done. Our guy was good, but these were nearly flawless.

I set them down and tilted my head up. A crude wooden ceiling, about six feet high, fanned out overhead. Directly above me was the faint outline of a trap door. There were two hinges on the right side, and what looked like a rope that could be used to pull it open from the inside. Unfortunately, the rope had long since decayed, leaving only a few inches well out of reach. The door must have closed automatically once we’d fallen through. “Look around. There has to be a way out.”

Shaun glanced to our left, then right. “There’s nothing here. No doors.”

“No,” I insisted. “It has to be here.”

“Kayla,” Shaun said. “I think we’re trapped.”

“Look around. This is his haven—like my mom’s tunnel. There’s a way out. I know there is.”

I hoped it sounded more convincing than it felt. We’d been over the small space and there were no doors—trap or otherwise. I scanned the area again, refusing to admit defeat, when something in the corner by the shelves caught my attention. The floor was dirt and you could see two distinct lines from where someone had moved the shelves at one point. “There,” I exclaimed, dragging him forward. “That has to be it. Help me move the shelves.”

With Shaun’s help, I nudged aside the bags of clothing and pulled the shelves several inches away from the wall. At the bottom, previously covered by the bags, was a small dark hole.

“Huh,” Shaun said beside me. “I’m starting to wonder…”

“Wonder? About what?”

“You.” He bent down to examine the hole. It was tight, but he would fit. “You keep trying to get me alone in tight spaces.” He reached back and grabbed the camping lantern, then got down on all fours and looked back over his shoulder. “I
am
hot—you know, in a cocky, annoying kind of way, right?”

Oh my God. He’d heard it
all
. I was never going to hear the end of that…

Chapter Twelve

The tunnel leading from Gerald’s panic room dumped us out in the basement of a feed store. It must have been the building I’d seen in the distance right before we fell through the trap door. Thankfully, due to the time we’d spent stuck in the pit, it was late and the store was closed. We were alone.

I gathered some paper towels and soaked them with warm water from the sink in the bathroom, then grabbed an archaic first aid kit I’d found beneath the sink. Coming back out to the main room, I said, “Don’t take this the wrong way, but take off your shirt.”

He tilted his head and raised a brow, but did as told, pulling the T-shirt above his head and tucking it behind his neck. This was about cleaning and dressing his wound, and that was easier without the shirt getting in the way, but it was hard not to stare. Well-defined lines and some serious ink, Shaun was definitely something to see. I found myself wondering what it’d be like to run my fingers across the planes of his chest, then tangle them in the thick, dark hair on his head.

Gingerly, I swiped the wet towel across the wound to clean away the blood. Beneath my touch, his muscles flexed, and he inhaled sharply but said nothing.

Once the wound was clean, he lifted his arm carefully to examine it. “Looks like I was right. Went straight through.”

“The bleeding seems to be less,” I said, wrapping the gauze around his arm. I finished it off with a long strip of tape. “Should be okay now.”

“What about you?” he asked, pulling his shirt back into place. I reached across to rummage through the small mini-fridge behind the counter. No luck other than an extremely outdated container of peach yogurt. I was an idiot. We should have taken food from Gerald’s shelter. Another one of Mom’s rules down the drain. Always take the time to fully assess a situation before making a move. “You okay?”

I hadn’t felt the impact from the fall into Gerald’s panic room at first, but it was starting to creep up on me now. Everything was sore and getting stiff. Add that to the fact that I was exhausted and starving, not to mention cold, and my body was ready to shut down.

Gingerly, I closed the fridge, lifted my wrist, and pushed the cuffs up as far as they would go. “I’m okay. Sore, but I’ll live.”

My left wrist was swollen and an angry shade of red. It looked like it was starting to darken around the edges—the beginnings of a bruise. “Shit,” he cursed and crossed to me, patting the counter. “Here. Sit a second.”

He set the lamp down and tugged the hoodie we’d been using to conceal the cuffs from around his waist. There was a violent tearing sound, and when I looked up, he was ripping the other sleeve off. “What are you doing?”

Dropping the bigger piece to the floor, he hopped onto the counter with me. Then, he gripped the edge of the sleeve and ripped it again, this time down the long seam line. We were sitting so close—knee to knee and shoulder to shoulder. He turned, and I felt his warm breath puffing out across my cheeks and neck. It made my pulse quicken and gave me goose bumps despite the fact that it warmed my chilled skin.

I held my breath as his fingers skimmed up my forearm, his touch feathery light as he slid the cuffs up and away from my bruised wrist. He ran his index finger along the edge of the bruise line, making a low noise in the back of his throat. It was a cross between a growl and a sigh, and it did strange things to my stomach. “I’m sorry this happened to you.”

“Not your fault,” I said, keeping my gaze on my wrist. If I picked up my head, we’d be eye to eye. For some reason, that scared the shit out of me.

But Shaun was determined. With his uncuffed hand, he lifted my chin. “It is my fault—and I’m sorry. I’ve been careless. Rough. I’ll try to be more careful…”

I couldn’t respond. The green flecks in his eyes stood out from the rest, casting a spell that made it impossible to look away. I waited for him to make a remark about me ogling him, or comment on how his perfection had stunned me speechless—because that would have made this easier. But he stayed quiet. Just staring at me like I was at him.

It was up to me. I cleared my throat and managed to tear my gaze from his. I leaned back a little, too. Being so close to him was mucking up my brain. “So, why did you defile the hoodie?” I nodded to his injured arm. “Didn’t it suffer enough?”

“This won’t solve the problem, but it might help.” He wrapped the sleeve portion fleece-side down around my wrist, then slid the cuff over top of it, all without taking his eyes from mine.

I opened my mouth, but the words wouldn’t come. The inside of my mouth was as dry as the desert. And my heart? If it beat any faster, I was likely to have a heart attack.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, brows knitted in concern. “Too tight?”

“I—no, it’s—” I sucked in a deep breath and fought the stinging in my eyes. “No one’s ever done that for me…”

He blinked, then broke into a crooked grin. “You mean wrapped your arm in a stolen hoodie?”

“Taken care of me.” There. I’d said it. Out loud. I wanted to die, but I’d said it out loud.

He seemed confused. I was, too, because he didn’t move away. In fact, I was certain he actually moved a little closer. Close enough that there was no way he didn’t hear my heart thundering inside my chest. “But your mother—”

“Loved me,” I confirmed, swallowing. “With her heart and soul. But she was a survivor. She taught me to be a survivor.
Do it yourself because no one else is going to do it for you.
That was one of her rules. If I fell and scraped my knee, I picked myself off the floor, bandaged it up, and moved on. Mom wasn’t the coddling type.”

“That’s a little harsh.”

Even though that was how I’d been raised, a large part of me—a part buried deep inside—wanted to agree with him. Instead, I simply smiled.

He was still so close. I smelled the woods on him, but there was something else. A spicy scent that tickled my nose and made my body hum in anticipation. All I could think about was what it’d be like to kiss him. So I did something rash. For the very first time, I acted without thinking or planning.

I kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”

I’d caught him off guard—I could tell—but after a moment, he recovered, lips parting in a devastating grin. He brought his face to mine, stopping just shy of touching, and whispered, “Your aim is a little off. I think you meant to get me several inches to the right.”

My heart stopped. He stayed where he was, and I was sure he’d push forward that last fraction of an inch and kiss me.
Really
kiss me. I wanted him to. Friends, relationships—sex—they were all ideas I’d never even entertained. In the back of my mind, I’d been sure one day I’d find a way to live free, and that there would be plenty of time to experience it all. Now I wasn’t so sure.

But he didn’t do it. He didn’t move away, though, either.

“Shaun, I…” I wanted to say more—not that I was sure what—but nothing would come out. It was like my thundering heart and racing pulse had taken over all facets of my being, making independent thought and motion impossible.

In that moment, I wanted to know—
had to know
—what kissing him would be like. I’d had some truly terrifying moments in my life, but nothing compared to this. To the thought of pressing forward and simply touching my lips to his. An act that sounded so simple, yet incited such an electric feeling. But my chance came and went.

“We should get moving,” Shaun murmured. He looked like he wanted to say more, but instead, pulled away and jumped from the counter. Taking my hand, he threaded his fingers through mine and lightly tugged me from the edge.

…

“We need a plan,” I said, kicking at a small white pebble. It bounced across the road before skittering into a storm drain. We’d slipped out the back door of the feed store and had been making our way through the woods, parallel to the road. It was still dark—I had no idea how long we’d been down in Gerald’s panic room—but there were no cars on the road.

“I thought the plan was to find out who this Mick guy is? See if he’s connected to your Mom’s death in any way…”

“We know he’s not the one after me. Gerald said Jaffe was paying him. But if Mick was one of my mom’s partners, maybe he can help us. He might know something. So, yeah. We need to find him, but we need a plan to do that.”

Shaun reached up to scratch his head, tugging my arm a few inches to the left. “So…we need a plan for the
plan
?”

“
Yes
. We’re cold, dirty, wet, and hungry—not to mention beat.” I thrust my free hand into my pocket to check on the cash. It was still there, thank God. “Plus, I want you to try calling Patrick again.”

Shaun cocked a brow and tilted his head in my direction. “I thought you didn’t trust him.”

“I don’t. Not even a little. But he was about to tell us something when you hung up on him—something about Mick. We need to find out what that was. It might help us track him down.”

“It’s been a while. He should be close by now.”

“Be close by—” And then it hit me. I wasn’t sure whether I was impressed, or furious. It was probably an even mixture of both. “The call from Gerald’s phone.”

“The minute we hung up, Pat would have gone to get it traced,” he confirmed with an annoyingly satisfied smile. “He’s probably already been to Gerald’s.”

I stopped walking as we came to a clearing in the trees, fists curling at my sides. I should have seen this coming. I was an idiot to have trusted him. Even a little. And God… Spilling my guts to him earlier? I felt like the biggest ass on the planet. “You bastard…”

His grin faltered as a beam of light came barreling toward us. “I—shit. Quick! Get down.”

He pushed me hard and I lost my footing. Sneaker slipping on the slick leaves beneath my feet, I teetered for a moment, and then skidded out of control down the embankment. We tumbled through the leaves, rolling in a tangled mess until we finally stopped several feet from the road. The headlights from the oncoming car passed harmlessly by.

“Get off me,” I growled, trying to push him aside. “You fucking liar,
get off me
!”

Grabbing my cuffed wrist, he also seized my free hand with his and pinned it in the bracken. “Will you calm the hell down?”

Calling him was one thing, but leading him right to us after I made my reservations known? No way. The money. It was all about the money. Maybe they wouldn’t fork me over to Jaffe, but the police had issued a reward as well. Some cash was better than none.

I kicked and thrashed. Rule of survival. Never make it easy. He wanted to double-cross me? Fine. I’d make his life a living hell in the meantime. I rammed my knee up, but Shaun was quick. He anticipated the move and twisted his body to the side. I connected with thin air. “I’m not a damn paycheck,” I shouted.

“I didn’t—” he started.

I brought my head up, uninterested in anything he had to say. Excuses and more lies. I didn’t need them. I kicked out again, this time connecting with his injured shoulder.

“Son of a bitch,” he cursed, doing his best to keep me pinned. “Kayla, I’m serious. Calm the fuck down and
listen
for one second!”

Something about the sound of his voice, commanding and just a little bit panicked, froze me in place. I stopped struggling and lifted my gaze to meet his.

“I
didn’t
lie to you. I said I’d keep you safe, and I promised I’d help you find what you were looking for. I don’t go back on my word. Not ever.”

“But you—”

He bent close, face inches from mine. Even in the dark, I could make out the strands of green in his eyes. It was good. Another thing to focus on other than the fact that I wanted to beat him within an inch of his life.

Good—and
bad
.

It also made me think of the feed store. How we’d been so close. How he’d touched me, so gentle… How, for the briefest moment, there’d been this undeniable connection between us. A perfect moment in the middle of a thousand horrible ones. That scared me.

“I signaled Pat so he would be close by. Just in case. I think we were on long enough before I had to hang up… I know you don’t trust him, and that’s cool, but I do. If I’m in trouble…” He jingled the chains. “And since you are, I
am
—then I want him here to have my back if I need it.”

The question came out whisper-soft and, even though I hated the fact, was filled with vulnerability. “So you’re not going to screw me over for the cash?”

For a moment, I was sure he hadn’t heard me. He just stayed where he was. Staring. When he did speak, it was soft—but chilling. And not necessarily in a bad way, either. What I’d felt earlier when we’d had that “moment” back at the feed store was merely a shadow of what I felt now. Both warm and cold, thrilling and scary, all at the same time. It made my pulse race like someone had injected me with rocket fuel.

“Fuck the money,” he growled. “I don’t know nearly as much about your life as Pat seems to, but I know you were raised to distrust everyone. And I get it—I
do
. When life throws shit your way, you have to look out for your own. But I swear to you, Kayla, not everyone is out to screw you. Some people really just want to help…”

He moved forward until our noses touched. It was an electric shock of warmth against the cool night that sent static rippling through my body and made the tiny hairs on my arms stand on end. No. Not stand. Dance. They were dancing—and I wanted to dance with them. “
I
want to help…”

And then the most unbelievable—badly timed and terrifying—thing happened.

He
kissed
me
.

Not a peck on the cheek like I’d braved, but an act fueled by fire and passion. My heart pounded, and I was positive it would explode. Could an eighteen-year-old girl in good health just drop dead from a sudden heart attack? Could a kiss even
do
that?

Sure it could. Shaun was off-limits. The enemy. That had to be exciting in some small way, not to mention the intensity of his stare, the way his shirt pulled taut over a well-muscled torso, his arms…

All the tension melted from my body and I found my lips responding to his. Soft and warm. Those were just two of the sensations that accosted my entire being, sending me reeling. I teetered square in the middle between wanting to move away and smack him, and never wanting it to end. Kissing. That was all. There were no roaming hands. No words. Just the soft brush of his lips and the warm, oddly soothing weight of his body against mine.